Ashamed
by Stephy69
Summary: Randy's family are ashamed of him. As it is, it's up to a woman who wants nothing to do with him to change all that. And even that takes major persuasion and bribery.
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, I got sidetracked. I admit it, my Jeff story isn't halfway through the first chapter. I like it, but I cant help but feel it isn't long enough…Anyways, I do a lot of reading fics on live journal, although I'm too scared to get one because ninety percent of those fics are AMAZING and I don't think an author like me would fit in…so anyways, I read this little challenge thingy, and I have decided to give it a bash.**

**Notes : Hmmm, Amy's family life...I am making up. As well as ninety percent of Randy's.**

Elaine Cassandra Orton, a wealthy woman in her early fifties. She had once been a nurse, although after giving birth to her second child, she decided being a housewife may be more suited to her. Although, considering how spoiled and "mothered" her children had turned out, she was pretty sure being a nurse would have been better for them all. She lived in the suburbs of St Louis with her husband Robert and her three children, Randall, Rebecca and Nathan. Well, until Randall decided he wanted to be a wrestler. And off he went to Kentucky, to become the little whore master that he was now. Now it wasn't that Elaine didn't love her son, she did. She just highly doubted that he was ever going to settle down…ever. She sat down on a plush sofa, clutching a warm mug of tea to her chest. She didn't know how her family reunion was going to go ahead. Her husband was finally being recognized for his work in the wrestling business and was, on April 2nd 2005, being inducted into the WWE Hall Of Fame. Proud of his achievements, he had decided to have an "Orton Family Gathering" much to Elaine's dismay.

Her daughter, Rebecca was nineteen years old, a beautiful young girl with long dark hair and blue eyes. She had just been accepted into a major university and was happy in her work. Elaine was genuinely proud of her. Nathan, fourteen and working hard at school. He tried his hardest when it came to football, but knew when to be serious. Another child to be proud of. And Randy…he was…in an occupational sense, a great credit to the family. His personal life however…wasn't exactly something to be proud of. He was a lovely boy really, quite intelligent and well behaved, most of the time. But his choice when it came to girls had always worried her. Growing up, his taste in women were quite the usual. The prettiest girls. The best known ones. But it seemed his occupation had changed all that. He seemed to have developed a "thing" for blonde airheads. Girls with no talent. Girls with gravity defying breasts and legs up to their armpits. Except that one girl…That red head he was always talking about. Alison ? Anna ? It was something beginning with A anyways. But by the sounds of her, she was far out of Randy's league. Elaine sighed, she knew her sons love life was a failure, she didn't need everyone else in the family to know it as well.

Placing the mug on the glass coffee table in front of her, she took a deep breath. Maybe they could tell the family Randy was working ? It wasn't as though he would want to be at the reunion. She was sure he'd be quite happy to be left out. But of course, Bob wouldn't have it that way. And what Bob says goes…

Elsewhere, a short red headed woman sat at a round table twirling an empty plastic cup around her finger. While other divas were getting excited about the Hall of Fame ceremony, Amy was anything but pleased. It was less than a month away. And it was all very formal. She would have to wear a dress, and look demure and pretty. She scoffed slightly. She hadn't looked "pretty" in a long time. A fan had once told her she was pretty, and she had laughed her ass off at him, not understanding how genuine he was being. While Trish and Lisa fussed about whether to wear Dior or Armani, the new girls, Maria and Candice decided which shoes looked better with which bag, Amy sat alone in catering, not wanting to be a part of the "fashion parade".

Catering was pretty much desolate. No one was anywhere near. Most of the guys where busy training for their matches or having conversations about the big game the night before. And the girls where busy playing dress up. She had no interest in football nor designers and so she had found herself here. Alone. Well, besides Randy Orton. He was sitting at the other end of the catering deck, nursing a coffee, which, considering the amount of time he had been sitting there, must have been cold. Amy sighed and walked over to him, talking to a depressed wrestler was better than actually being a depressed wrestler. "Cheer up. It might never happen," she said, smiling.

"I wish it wouldn't." he replied glumly, not even raising his head to look at her. Amy frowned and sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside him. "You know my dad's gunna be in the Hall of Fame next month?" He continued. Amy nodded, glad of finally finding someone else who wasn't looking forward to it. "Well, my family are organizing this whole 'gathering'. I mean, every Orton will be on the estate. They think I don't know about it, but grandma let slip. Anyways, mom's kinda…ashamed of the fact that I ain't settled down. And dad wont let me out of it. So I have to find a date for a week long 'gathering'. Or, I get absolutely no inheritance and I'm seen as an outcast. That's my dad's way of making sure I go."

Amy frowned and bit her lip, her family wasn't exactly normal. What with a freelance artist as a mother, an asshole as a brother, an alcoholic as a father and a step father she saw more than anyone else, her family wasn't too conventional. But they would never openly admit they were ashamed of her. "That bites. But all you've got to do is find a girlfriend before then." she said, thinking she was being helpful.

"No." said Randy. "They think I have one. My sister made it up just to shut mom up. And now, I'm screwed. I'm supposed to be with this respectable girl, who's real intelligent for about three months now. I cant expect some girl to lie like that."

Amy giggled, "Ask one of the new divas to do it. To pretend. They'll be so overwhelmed that you want them to, that they'll say yes in a heartbeat."

Randy raised an eyebrow, "I said respectable and intelligent Amy. And believe me, there are VERY few divas who fit that bill. No offense."

Amy laughed, "None taken. But remember, Lillian, Lisa, Stacy and Gail…none of them will lie for you. You know what they're like. Stephanie will tell daddy you hit on her. And I can honestly say, I'll kick your ass if you ask me. Randall," she said, standing up and placing a hand on his shoulder. "you're screwed boy. REAL screwed."

She smiled and made her way along to the divas locker room. It was always great talking to someone who felt worse than yourself. Made her feel much better. Pushing the locker room door open, she felt a hand grip her arm. "Amy, there you are," said a rather ecstatic Stephanie. A tall blonde woman with piercing blue eyes. "We were wondering if you wanted to come shopping with us. Just now. Before the show." She said, nodding her head with every word she spoke. Amy raised an eyebrow. But before she could speak, her best friend took her hand. "No excuses. You're single. You're beautiful. And you have better 'assets' than I do. We're going to find you a dress that'll be more of a showstopper than Shawn ever was."

Amy laughed slightly, it was tough being Stephanie's friend. She was a McMahon, and even though she was an adult, she was still very much, daddy's little girl, meaning she got everything and she wasn't the type of girl who took no for an answer, and with Amy being as stubborn as she was, it caused many arguments. Amy thought of Randy sitting in catering. At least my life ain't that bad, she thought, picking up her bag from the side bench and linking arms with Stephanie before leaving the locker room with her, Trish and Lisa.

A few hours later, Amy found herself collapsing in the female locker room, pretending to faint. "I'm too tired," she said, slumped against the wall. Her three friends laughed as more divas filled the room. "They abused me and forced me to shop."

Stacy Keibler and Gail Kim raised eyebrows at her last statement, "You have to be the only girl who doesn't like shopping." said Gail laughing, "And you didn't even buy anything."

"She bought an Armani dress. But she needed it altered." said Stephanie, proud that Amy had actually agreed to the shopping spree.

"Her boobs don't fit in her size of dress," said Lisa, throwing a water bottle at the redhead, currently pretending to die.

"You think daddy would mind 'boosting my assets' before the Hall of Fame?" asked Stephanie, a hand on each of her breasts.

The room went silent as a male groan was heard outside the door at the words "Hall of Fame". Amy laughed, knowing exactly who the man was and exactly why he was here. After a polite knock at the door, Randy Orton appeared, looking rather sheepish. He took one look at the Billion Dollar Heiress, who waved at him, before putting her hand back to where it was. "I mean, it would only cost…three…four…"

"Six thousand dollars. At least. That's if you go cheap. Cheap hurts. Don't bother," said Amy, finishing the woman's sentence as though Orton wasn't there. "I felt like I had Big Show sitting on my chest. And for what? ONE cup size."

Randy coughed. For the first time in his career, he felt embarrassed around the divas. "I, uh…Trish can I have a word with you?" Amy raised an eyebrow at his words and shook her head. Mouthing the words 'It'll never happen' in his direction. Randy shrugged and flipped her off, re-opening the door. "In private."

Trish nodded and followed him, quite unaware of what was going on. "Look Trish, I don't mean to put you on the spot here, but I ain't good with words. Basically, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind lying to my family and pretending to be my girlfriend of three months for a week."

Trish coughed, "Excuse me?" she said, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.

"I, look, I need someone to pretend they're my girlfriend for a family gathering." he said, shrugging slightly.

"And why did you choose me?" asked Trish, although she had already decided she wasn't going to do it.

"Because Amy told me she'd kick my ass, Lil, Lisa, Gail and Stacy wouldn't lie and Steph would tell Vince." A loud whack was heard through out the hallways as Trish's palm connected with Randy's cheek. As Trish stormed back into the locker room , Randy reached up towards his cheek which was now sporting a rather red handprint. "Better luck next time," he whispered to himself.

**Author's Notes : Positive Feedback please.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n : Took me long enough, but I'm back. I really, don't know what's going on with this story, and I'm only finishing this chapter because I'm jealous of the fact that Angelic Torture's muses are working for her )**

Randy sat in the drivers seat of a luxury rental car, keys clutched tightly in his hand. He had no intention of going anywhere, he just couldn't face going back into that arena, knowing that Trish would have told the rest of the girls. And so he had decided that it was best for everyone if he just sat in the car until he was certain his match was going to start. He groped around in the glove compartment, looking for the cell phone he had thrown in their earlier, but, due to being stretched across two seats, he found himself rather uncomfortable. "Fucking rentals, made for midgets," he whined before opening the door to give him more leg room as he lay across the seats, now looking under the passenger seat for the phone.

Gripping the slim, black piece of metal, he sat up grumpily, pulling the door closed again and readjusting his legs under the wheel. "Six new messages," he said," big surprise there." He laughed sarcastically, raising the phone to his ear. After five strangely stalker like messages he was about to hang up, until the sixth came.

"Randall. It's me. Your mother." came the voice. Randy rolled his eyes, ok, so after a few two many chair shots to the head, some of his brain cells had gotten loose, but he wasn't stupid enough not to recognize his own mothers voice. "Becky just told me about your new girlfriend. Apparently your father's known about it for a while. I assume she'll be at the gathering? Well, I don't know when you're going to get this. Knowing you, not for a good few days. But remember, three weeks. You better act somewhat respectable, goodness knows I don't need showing up around your father's side of the family. Well, be safe." Without thinking, Randy's head collided with the top part of the wheel. She had to be kidding? It wasn't as though he didn't know he only had three weeks, but to be constantly reminded? He sighed.

"Schizophrenia has got to be hereditary," he said rubbing his temples, the cell once again thrown to the other side of the car. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of a way to get out of it. _I could say she cheated…NO. Mom doesn't want embarrassment. She could have died? No. They'd expect a funeral._ He sighed and tried his best not to think at all. Normally, this was easy for him, but with so much pressure, it seemed like taking down Khali would be a lot easier than making his mind go blank right now.

"Get up Wiseact, your match is next," came a female voice, the car door opening. Randy screwed his eyes up. He wasn't sure who it was, and to be honest, he didn't care. All he knew was that she had been in that locker room when Trish had gone back in, so chances were, she knew of what had happened.

The diva laughed and leaned over, if he thought she actually believed that he was asleep, he was very much mistaken. She smiled and placed her hand on his cheek. She wasn't getting her pay check docked just because he wouldn't get up. Randy squeezed his eyes tighter shut, her hands were fucking freezing and it didn't really feel too good, considering he was boiling hot. "It's a shame you're sleeping," she whispered. "Cause, well, I was kinda here to tell you, that, I think I love you." She watched his eyes flick open quickly. "Knew you weren't sleeping. Now get up. McMahon says if you don't get in there in forty six seconds, I lose one third of my pay check. So MOVE."

Randy got out the car and locked the door quickly, speeding up his pace as he walked through the parking lot. "Amy," he said, catching up with the diva. "You just said…"

Amy smirked. "You're not the only one who knows when to lie." She laughed pushing the backdoor of the arena open, walking through them and striding away from the superstar, a smirk evident on her face.

"Typical," Randy muttered, dragging his feet along as he walked to his locker room. "She says something like that? Should have known she was lying. Not bloody fair." He sighed and pulled off the baggy shorts he had been wearing over his wrestling trunks, and the warm Jordan sweater which covered his chest. "It's never fair these days. Everyone else gets to be happy, except me."

He rolled his eyes and changed his old sneakers into his wrestling boots, lacing them up faster than usual before drinking 90 of the bottle of water lying beside him. No time for petty routines and rituals today, he quite frankly, wasn't in the mood for them. Walking along the hall, people just seemed to move out of his way, maybe it was his facial expressions, his body language, or just his all round being, but they all seemed to realize that getting in his way probably wasn't a good thing to do.

Ten minutes later and he was lying back in his locker room. Same old matches, week after week. He'd go out, act all cocky. Taker would intervene. End of. It was getting tiresome, even for him. He spread out, lying along the bench in an incredibly uncomfortable position. He laughed, "Rey wouldn't even fit on here." It seemed everything was too small for him. Or maybe, he just felt it was. He sat up. That was the answer. Rey. Well, Smackdown.

If he couldn't get any Raw divas to lie for him, there had to be a Smackdown diva who would. He sat up, trademark smirk reappearing on his face. Why the hell hadn't he thought of that before? He paused, because he had been hoping Amy would change her mind. He sighed, what the hell was it about her? She was a bitch, she acted like a total guy and she hated any sort of civilization so why did he like her so much? He rolled his eyes and began to pack his bag. He had a flight to catch. A flight to Baltimore. A flight to Smackdown.


End file.
